How To Be A Mary Sue
by distaff.exile
Summary: An unusual little etiquette guide. Props to Tapestry of the Mary Sue Appreciation Society.


How To Be A Mary Sue  
  
CJ (with props to Tapestry at the Mary Sue Appreciation Society)  
  
disclaimer: Angela and Bianca are mine. 'Anda' comes from 'Rolanda,' which is the first name the HP Lexicon gives for Madam Hooch. Nobody you know belongs to me; rather, they're all JK Rowling's. All hail, etc.  
  
---  
  
"You must have had either a perfectly normal life until manifestation (with the possible exception of having been a bit of a misfit, but apparently that's normal), or -- more commonly -- an incredibly and horrifically eventful one. In either case, it will have no discernible effect on your ability to deal with things."  
  
---  
  
2003  
  
A new year, a new set of students to deal with. It was a familiar routine to Angela Galt, now beginning her tenth year as Junior Flying Instructor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She sat at the head table in the Great Hall, sipping pumpkin juice and chatting with Anda Hooch (the Senior Flying Instructor, incidentally).   
  
'...So I said to Severus, "You couldn't hit that Quaffle with a bloody plank!"' Hooch recounted, laughing raucously at the memory of an enraged Professor Snape. 'And he said to me, "Why don't you bloody one up, then?" So I did.'  
  
'And that's why he sounds funny?' asked Angela. 'You broke his nose?'  
  
'It seemed like a good idea at the time,' Hooch said.   
  
'You were drunk!'  
  
'What difference does it make? I'd have done it sober, too.'  
  
Angela might have got the chance to berate her colleague even further if Dumbledore hadn't chosen that moment to open the feast. 'Excuse me!' the elderly Headmaster called, his spoon clinking against the side of his goblet. 'Let us now begin the Sorting.'  
  
Professor McGonagall ushered the new first-years into the hall. 'When I call your name, step forward and place the hat upon your head,' she instructed them, and began to call the roll. One by one, the students were Sorted into the four houses -- until there was one girl left.   
  
McGonagall squinted at her scroll. 'Er... Lady Bianca Evanthe Kalika Zuleika de Sargent.'  
  
Everyone stared in awe at the tall, slim girl who emerged from the shadows. She had moonlight-blonde hair and amber eyes. Her perfect Cupid's bow mouth was curved slightly in a nervous smile.   
  
'Who the hell is that?' asked Angela. 'I mean, I'm not exactly familiar with Debrett's, but I'd know if she was some kind of royalty.'  
  
'I had a letter about her yesterday,' Hooch said. 'Apparently she's just been rescued from torture at the hands of a few rogue Death Eaters.'  
  
'I thought Voldemort fell in 1998?'  
  
Hooch shrugged. 'There are still sick people in the world, Galt. Never forget that.'  
  
Bianca sat down on the stool and donned the Sorting Hat.   
  
Ten minutes later, Angela was on the verge of dozing off. 'I say, what's taking so long?' she whispered to Hooch.  
  
'Hat's being indecisive,' Hooch explained. 'It did take its time with Potter.'  
  
'Yes, but that was thirty seconds.'  
  
'Well, it's got a little more to consider with this one. Don't forget, she was in her sixth year at Beauxbatons before she was kidnapped.'  
  
Five minutes later, even Binns had had enough. 'Minerva,' the ghostly Professor said, 'can't you have a word with that Hat?'  
  
McGonagall looked quite ready to protest, but an odd gurgling noise emanating from her midsection stopped her cold. 'Hm. Well, I suppose I should do something. We are, I'm sure, all very hungry.' She walked up to the Hat and tapped it on the brim. 'Please make your decision.'  
  
'It's a draw,' the Hat announced. 'She's braver than a lion with a perilous keen mind/And loyal to a fault, but pretty tricky in a bind. I'll sort her into Gryffindor, so that you lot can dine/But be quite sure, in ANY house, this girl would do just fine!'  
  
Suddenly, Angela was no longer hungry.   
  
---  
  
"Remember, you don't need to worry about the previous relationships of the canon characters. They'll be only too happy to succumb to your wiles after a few swift kicks to the head."  
  
---  
  
It was well-known throughout Hogwarts that Professor Snape was a married man. If the ring on his finger wasn't a big enough hint, the photograph on his desk certainly was. It had been taken two years ago at the wedding, held at one of the finest restaurants in Wizarding London. The bride (a Muggle, surprisingly enough) had been absolutely radiant -- and the groom's grin could have lit the whole of Hogsmeade.   
  
This was usually enough to deter his hordes of female admirers (if the greasy hair and cutting wit didn't do it). However, some of them did not mind. What, after all, was a little thing like marriage to stand in the way of True Love?  
  
Professor Snape staggered into the faculty lounge one sunny afternoon with his hand clapped to his head. 'That,' he announced, 'is the last time I go for a ride on my own.'  
  
'Horse get you?' asked Angela, who had a lovely crescent-shaped scar from when a Shetland pony kicked her in the forehead. 'Here, I'll Floo for Madam Pomfrey.'  
  
'No need,' Snape said. 'I'm not bleeding. I will have a lovely bruise by suppertime, however.' He fished his wand from his pocket and performed an all-purpose cooling charm on himself. 'Ah. That's better.'  
  
'What the devil happened? --Damn, out of ink again.' Angela stuffed her Sugar Quill into her mouth and fished a second out of her robes. 'Better.' She sucked on the first; drops of drool ran down her chin and pooled on the love letter she was writing to her boyfriend.   
  
'That's disgusting,' muttered Snape, throwing Angela a handkerchief. 'Mop up. As for the incident...' He grimaced. 'Hogwarts needs chaperones.'  
  
'Ooh.' Angela wiped her chin down. 'Find a few canoodlers, eh?'  
  
'Worse.' He pulled his collar down to reveal a red bite mark just below his jaw. 'I found a very experienced rider from Beauxbatons. Did you know that it's possible to jump from one horse to another without injuring oneself?'  
  
'I've seen it done in the circus before,' Angela said. 'Never knew anyone who could pull it off, though. You're telling me...'  
  
Snape nodded. 'Unfortunately, she failed to account for her swinging legs. One of her feet caught me across the brow.'   
  
'Ooh. Sorry to hear that.'  
  
'Not half as sorry as I am.' Snape sighed. 'I'd better go explain this to my wife. She won't be pleased.'  
  
'Good luck.' Angela stood, stretched, and ate her second empty quill. 'I'm off to the Owlery. See you at supper?'  
  
'If I live that long.'  
  
---  
  
"Distinguishing features are a must to make you stand out from your new teammates, so try to get a few nifty tattoos. If you can't afford them, take a kitchen knife and start slicing. Remember, scars are as good as birthmarks!"  
  
---  
  
'What the devil are you doing?' Angela crouched down beside the bleeding girl. 'Trying to commit suicide?'  
  
'Don't be ridiculous.' Bianca sat up, grinning wildly as blood streamed down her face. 'Just a little plastic surgery.'  
  
The source of the bleeding was, of course, a lightning-shaped cut on her forehead.  
  
---  
  
"Looking good is important. You might want to consider acquiring contacts and dying your hair (white is a favorite) before making the scene."  
  
---  
  
Snape's scream could be heard all the way up in the Owlery.   
  
'WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?'  
  
Angela, Hooch, and McGonagall were the last three to arrive on the scene, having been farthest away (and highest up). 'Did someone spill a bottle of ink?' McGonagall asked, taking in the liberal splatters of violet on the floor surrounding Snape's work bench.   
  
Hooch sniffed the air. 'Minerva, that's not ink.'  
  
'Well, what is it, then?'  
  
Hooch glanced around for evidence to confirm her theory. 'I think it's hair dye,' she said, pointing to Bianca. 'Look.'  
  
Sure enough, Bianca sat on a stool in the corner with a sulky expression on her face and purple goo on her head. She wore only what appeared to be a black shroud.   
  
'I don't care what it is or was,' Snape said. 'I do care that this... this...'  
  
'Abomination?' offered Angela.  
  
'Thank you.' He cleared his throat before resuming the tirade. 'That this abomination saw fit to use my classroom -- my inner sanctum -- which was LOCKED! -- as a beauty parlour!' Snape was livid; his face had gone almost as purple as the dye. 'Detention, Miss de Sargent --'  
  
'That's Lady de Sargent to you,' Bianca corrected him.   
  
'Your Highness,' said Snape, very sarcastically. 'I don't care if you're the Queen Mother. You have a month of detention.'   
  
Bianca smiled.  
  
'With Filch,' Snape hastened to add, and the smile disappeared.   
  
'Breaking and entering is a serious charge, Lady de Sargent,' McGonagall added. 'I should have you expelled for this.'  
  
'Oh, no, Professor,' Bianca pleaded, fluttering her eyelashes in hopes that McGonagall would let her off easy. 'I was desperate for a little privacy. Ever since my experiences with the Death Eaters, I can't bear to be seen... en deshabille.' She lowered her gaze to the floor. 'When it came time to wash out the dye, I looked and looked for a bathroom, but they were all being used by other people.' (Pronounced 'uzzer peu-pull.')  
  
'So you decided to borrow the Potions classroom?' McGonagall asked. 'Didn't you realise that Snape might need it as well?'  
  
'I thought he was with his wife.' ('I zawt ee was wiz is wah-eef.' When Bianca was in trouble, her barely-noticeable French accent thickened until she could hardly be understood.)  
  
'Not at ten in the morning on a Friday, Lady de Sargent.' Snape shook his head. 'How Gryffindor breeds such idiocy, I shall never know.'  
  
'Hey, she went to Beauxbatons for six years!' Angela cried. 'Don't pin this one on us!'   
  
'Very well, Lady de Sargent. Professor Snape's verdict stands. Detention with Filch, one month. In addition, I forbid you to bring any more hair dye into this school. Why don't you learn a dyeing spell like the other girls?'  
  
Certainly, if it were not such an unladylike gesture, Bianca would have slapped herself in the forehead.   
  
---  
  
"Learn to giggle and simper. Older males find it endearing."  
  
---  
  
The following night, Bianca found herself deposited on Dumbledore's doorstep.  
  
'And no more bloody giggling!' Filch shouted. 'Just... stay put.'   
  
He fled, Mrs Norris hot on his heels.  
  
---  
  
"Learn martial arts, at least one musical instrument, and if possible a couple of foreign languages. The more special skills you have, the better!"  
  
---  
  
Marked in the margins of one of Bianca de Sargent's Charms scrolls: 'English, please. Not all of us learned Arabic and French growing up.'  
  
---  
  
"Get yourself a gimmick, like a piece of jewelry or an article of clothing you wear constantly. Oh yeah, avoid dresses. They're for sissies."  
  
---  
  
Angela had to stifle a groan when Bianca walked into her Remedial Flying class. 'What are you wearing?' she asked. 'You won't be able to fly in that, you know.'  
  
Bianca lifted her hat. 'What did you say? I couldn't hear a thing.'  
  
'Just chuck the cloche, mate,' Angela advised. 'And while you're at it, the seven strings of black pearls, three gold pentacles, and the sword belt.'  
  
'So I can keep the seven-inch heels?' Bianca asked.  
  
Angela shrugged. 'They go so well with those suede breeches. You might as well.'  
  
---  
  
"Animal friends are ALWAYS fun! Try a small dragon or a hawk for starters -- they're pretty, compact, loyal, and can rip out your opponent's eyes in .5 seconds."  
  
---  
  
One morning, a small package came for Bianca with the owl post. 'Handle With Care,' it was labelled. 'This end up.'   
  
'Oh, wonderful!' Bianca cooed. 'Daddy got my letter!' She whisked the package up to her room.  
  
A week later, Bianca was summoned to the Headmaster's office.   
  
'I appreciate your love of animal husbandry,' Dumbledore said to her, 'but there is one small problem with your latest pet.'  
  
Bianca smiled innocently. 'What's that?'  
  
'It keeps eating the school owls.'  
  
She pouted. 'Oh, very well. I should think you'd be pleased I was showing some House pride.'  
  
'I am, I am,' said Dumbledore, 'but hatching one's own griffin is not quite the way to do it. Try knitting yourself a nice red and gold scarf.'  
  
Not surprisingly, Hagrid and Bianca got along just fine after that.   
  
---  
  
"When shopping around for super powers, I suggest going for telepathy, elemental control, or shape shifting. No one likes a girl who can beat up the team's heavy-hitters. It's unladylike."  
  
---  
  
Angela and Hooch hovered high over the flooded school grounds. 'Blast this storm,' Angela said, clutching her poncho more tightly around her body. 'I'm bound to get pneumonia when all's said and done.'  
  
'I haven't seen it rain so hard since Noah built his Ark -- not, mind you, that I was around to witness THAT.' Hooch fixed her assistant with a stern glare. 'Do you see her yet?'  
  
A sharp gust of wind nearly sent both of them into the drink.  
  
'No,' shouted Angela, struggling to be heard over a clap of thunder. 'Why, oh why, were we cursed with a student who can control the weather?'  
  
'Damned if I know,' replied Hooch. 'Damned anyway, if she stays here much longer.'  
  
'It could always be worse.'  
  
'How so?'  
  
'Well, I'd hate to live in the dungeons right now.'  
  
---  
  
"With the proper teachers it should be NO problem to go from total newbie to Master Apprentice of the Secret Arts in the space of a few weeks. If you have to break a sweat you obviously aren't trying hard enough."  
  
---  
  
'You, out of my dungeons!'  
  
No sooner had Bianca completed the potion than she found herself out on her arse. 'What have I done?' she wailed.   
  
'Sleeping Death Potion in 30 seconds flat,' Snape barked. 'I don't know what you've been reading lately, but I'm certain it isn't part of the curriculum.'  
  
'At least she's been reading,' muttered Draco Malfoy, who was visiting his godfather for the fortnight. 'Last time I saw her, she couldn't even brew a decent cup of tea.'   
  
---  
  
"Cash is NEVER an issue. Being independently wealthy is a must!"  
  
---  
  
Bianca walked into the Headmaster's office bearing an official-looking scroll. 'Congratulations, Professor Dumbledore,' she said. 'You're now looking at the new owner of Hogwarts.'  
  
Dumbledore didn't so much as blink, but the news sent Fawkes into molt.  
  
---  
  
"Important note -- no matter how innocent you are, a Mary Sue always knows just what to do in bed. And never has to worry about unwanted pregnancy, diseases, or anything bad!"  
  
---  
  
'Hogwarts needs a Health and Human Development course,' Pomfrey said to McGonagall, one day over tea. 'I've done my last prenatal exam!'  
  
---  
  
"Try to score a journey into space as soon as possible. You'll make valuable connections, and maybe even take the a spaceship for a cruise! (But they pull to the left, so be careful when going into warp.)"  
  
---  
  
'Did you hear what de Sargent's getting as a reward for graduating?' asked Hooch at the last faculty meeting of the year. 'Her father's got her a ride on a Russian spacecraft!'  
  
'I hope it explodes on takeoff,' muttered Snape.   
  
You do know what they say. From your lips to the gods' ears.   
  
The incident made all of the world's papers that very next morning. Nobody was quite sure how a fireball had gotten into the shuttle. Thankfully, Lady de Sargent had insisted on flying solo, so no-one else was killed. The Russian government was dismissing it as a freak accident -- there was, after all, no logical reason for a fire originating inside the passenger's quarters.   
  
No -logical- reason.  
  
Severus Snape spent his first free weekend grinning like an idiot.  
  
---  
  
the end. 


End file.
